One of the most interesting shifts in Christian theology after the Shoah was in how the adjective Jewish was used. In the patristic era, to call someone’s work Jewish was to insult it: the work was too fleshly or legalistic. Since the Shoah, to call someone’s work Jewish is to praise it as appropriately this-worldly, concerned with the ordinary stuff of life, embodied.

God is concerned with the health of women. God cares about teenagers who end up in a lifetime of poverty. Jesus healed the bleeding woman 2,000 years ago, and I think if he walked the streets today, he just might hand her a packet of pink pills.

Sometimes the news of the world can take the hope of Easter
right out of you. Sometimes it's hard to believe in the resurrection.

And yet, this is how it happens: a woman, 38 years old, is
diagnosed with breast cancer and has to have a total mastectomy. Two years
later the cancer comes back, and her doctor schedules her for another
mastectomy.

There is a resurrection in generosity, in opening your hand and
unclenching your fist. The daughter of Jarius knew this when Jesus
allowed her father to convince him to come over. Jesus went out of his
way, and the result was a healing.